Mars Orbit

Sol System

11:00 Hours, October 20th 2552, UNSC Standard Military Calendar

The Red Planet that had been the dream of the earliest of humanity's colonists sat below. It was now the biggest remaining Shipyard of the UNSC Navy and home to the Reyes-McLee headquarters. Several dozen orbital cradles and stations stood tall in the uppermost areas of the planet's atmosphere, alongside a slew of UNSC vessels currently preparing for their departure from the Sol System. Fifteen UNSC Phoenix-class warships and thirty other assorted older vessels currently sat in orbit over Mare Erythraeum, with several of the Phoenix-class ships undergoing refit to support combat and military operations.

Among the ships defending them were some of the oldest models of UNSC vessels that had been pulled out of mothball now. Among them was the only Thermopylae-class Supercarrier of the UNSC Navy. A gigantic brick layered with the black Titanium-A armor that was standard to their naval forces, as well as several hundred arrays of weapons, including a total of a hundred and sixty ARCHER missile pods. The command vessel for the fleet, this was the UNSC Moscow, the Navy's last and greatest warship that could be pulled for this duty.

Around her, several Charon-class frigates and Corvettes patrolled, with the escort of half a dozen Paris-class Heavies, six Halcyon-classes, three smaller escort carriers and squadrons upon squadrons of Longswords. Beside these ships, the UNSC had also brought forth two of the biggest modernized vessels they could spare. Valiant-class cruisers hanged in orbit, beside the mothership of the fleet. Bulked up and armored to the very core, the Valiant-class Heavy Cruiser family presented some of the meanest and most heavily armed vessels the UNSC had at its disposal.

And, currently, they and the Carrier made up the command section of the fleet. Aboard the massive battleship-like Carrier, the commanders of what was set to be the biggest evacuation in the history of the UNSC. The Admiral in command of this fleet was a Rear Admiral that had dealt with fighting retreats beforehand, when he and his naval forces were pulling out of another doomed colony.

Matthew Higgins, UNSC Rear Admiral, age 71, narrowed his eyes at the holographic table in the middle of the cavernous bridge of his command ship. Around him, a dozen different holographic figures, ranging from Frigate commanders to the Captains of the UNSC Navy's Valiant-class cruisers to even Hillsborough-class destroyer officers. They all concerned themselves with what was to come.

The word had been given. The Covenant knew about Earth. It was only a matter of time before they would send a fleet to deal with them and the greatest Battle in this damnable War would begin. He knew damn well it'd be the deadliest fight, with the UNSC giving it their all. Several hundred ODPs and hundreds of ships had been brought in to secure Earth's orbit.

"How many...?" He asked of one of the captains commanding the UNSC Phoenix-class refit Shelter from Deluge, a young woman who'd just been given the position aboard the old vessel

"Counting around one million after the modification of the cryobay, sir. We've added layers of armor to it, too, so we could've fit even more, but..." The woman replied shyly. The Admiral nodded. There needed to be protection so they'd have people to evacuate. One million cryo-tubes was nothing to scoff at... And if every single Phoenix-class refit for combat duty could fit that many, they had at least six million people in half their Phoenixes, plus an uncounted number more aboard the Carriers, the Valiants and the other ships that had extra cryo-tubes fitted in, stacked and pressed together like sardines in a can.

His own ship had at least another seven million people stacked together in the up-armored belly of the vessel. It'd take the Covenant several Plasma torpedoes focused at just the right spot to burn away the plating and kill those inside. He'd made sure of it when he asked for this old beast to be retrofitted, just after arriving above Earth. Still, that he was put in charge of an Evacuation Fleet, rather than a battle group defending Earth... It stung. And told him more than he needed to know about what HighCom and Lord Hood were expecting of the upcoming battle.

A valiant, but worthless struggle against the immeasurable tide of the Covenant Armada. And he would not be here to see to his own Home's defense. He shook his head, then straightened up and said, "What's the status on the rest of our ships? I know at least three of our Phoenixes are awaiting a retrofit and the one carrying the necessary terraforming equipment for wherever we're going hasn't got the upgraded armor package."

"She''ll be alright, sir. If we can make it out first..." The captain of that specific Phoenix, the Last Light, replied, arranging his uniform. He was a middle-aged fellow and a veteran that had, up until recently, commanded a Cruiser into battle. A Halcyon, to be specific, which had now been reassigned as part of the rest of Home Fleet. The Fleet needed veterans for where they were going.

"The current wave of Phoenixes is joining the ranks, sir. The last three are entering refit," Reported the shipboard AI, Latana. Colored a deep violet, clad in ancient Greek gowns and wielding nothing but a shield in her Avatar form, the Artificial Intelligence, code LTN 0052-7, had served as a caretaker 'SMART' AI aboard a medical vessel before she was assigned as the shipboard AI of the Moscow. Several new programs, including a prototype infiltration and Electronic Warfare system had been added to her so she could better run the ship and protect the people.

"Good... Thank you, Latana... Patch me through to the fleet," The Admiral replied, then sighed heavily as the AI gave a nod. He began, his heart heavy, "Alright, people. We're preparing to depart. The moment the last Phoenix is out of the Cradle, we're taking this entire force and we're evacuating. As much as I hate the orders given by Lord Hood and Fleet Admiral Harper, they know best what they expect of the enemy's forces. They'll want us out of here the moment we're ready, which will hopefully be before the Covenant arrive."

"I'm not going to lie to you and I sure as hell won't mince words on this," He stated, eyeing each of the officers of his fleet, "This is probably the hardest call I've ever had to make, but I trust Lord Hood's judgement... If the defense of Earth fails, we are the last hope mankind has at rebuilding and returning from the brink. What I want you to take into consideration, ladies and gentlemen, is that your families are aboard these evacuation ships. Our job is to ensure that we make it to a place where we, as a species, can rebuild, no matter what. Load up on courage and load up on hope, for that's all we'll have as we make our way out. Make no mistake, though, we will be back."

He paused, then stepped forward, toward the reinforced windows of his ship, watching as civilian and military ship alike were entering the final prep stages. Fighters were mounted into the hangar bays of the Athens-class carriers providing them escort, Pelicans landed in the bays of Frigates, Cruisers and even Battleships and the UNSC logos on the side shimmered a burning white in the light of Sol. He continued, firm, but proud, "And when we come back? If we haven't won already... We'll make the Covenant regret every single thing they've done to us... Stand tall, ladies and gentlemen... For we'll be the worst nightmare ever to walk the stars for the Covenant."

His officer cadre all snapped crisp salutes, with Latana following suit. She pushed her long black hair out of her eyes, then smiled, "Sir. Call from Cairo Station."

"Patch it through," The man ordered, turning to face it. Lord Hood's form materialized on the deck, the grizzled veteran of British descent staring with two narrowed eyes at the Rear Admiral. Matthew snapped to, saluting the officer. He saluted back.

"At ease, Rear Admiral... How is the prep going?" He asked.

"As good as can be, sir," The Admiral replied, "We're on schedule for departure... Are you sure you don't want us to stick around for the fight?"

"You've got over twenty million colonists in cryo on your entire fleet, Admiral, not to mention the most promising young officers. We're not going to risk it," Hood offered.

"Was just asking one last time in the hope you changed your mind, sir," The Admiral nodded, "Don't worry. We have this under control... We'll be back for Earth, even if it's gonna be a ball of glass..."

"Here's to hoping it won't come to that, Admiral... Safe travels and take care of yourselves. If we do make it through this mess, I want to be sure that we'll have a fleet to build upon when you return."

"Aye, sir," The Admiral gave a smile. The two saluted each-other and Lord Hood went off the air, presumably to prepare to hand out the medals to the Chief, Sergeant-Major Johnson and Commander Keyes, the latter for her father's actions in combat. As the minutes ticked away on the clock and the last of the ships were completing their refits, the Admiral hummed as a chill shot up his spine.

"... Have the Hillsborough destroyers Prince of Wales, Queen Elizabeth and Saint Peter power weapons and go to yellow alert. Send in the Valiant-class Oslo as the command ship and get me six corvettes... We're going to need a rearguard," The man ordered to Latana. The AI unquestioningly followed the orders, bringing up the force organization of the Ark Fleet.

"Sir!" Gasped the sensor officer, "Slipspace ruptures, just out of the range of the ODPs! I'm counting thirteen enemy ships!"

"Thirteen...?" The man murmured. The fleet that burned reach had been fifty times the size of this one. He called out, "Combat Alert Alpha. All combat-ready vessels, prepare to fight rearguard. Helm, bring us about, one-eighty. We'll act as a shield for the Fleet. Latana, get gunnery MAC Solutions. We'll hold the line here while the Phoenix-classes and the rest of the fleet Slip out."

"Aye, sir," The AI replied, as the lights of the ship dimmed and grew a threatening scarlet. She reported "Covenant ships may not have noticed us yet... Scratch that, detecting five more Slipspace ruptures, close proximity to our task force. Counting five CSS-class Cruisers. The enemy is launching Strike Craft. Counting ten Seraph formations with more coming online."

"Shunt power from the coilguns to the MACs. Have the Athens carriers launch their complement of fighters," The man said calmly, approaching the holo-table and bringing up force disposition in a three-dimensional space. Five Covenant Cruisers bore down on Mars and on them and the old hunk of junk was barely turning fast enough to aim her MAC guns at them. He swore to himself, then said, "Status on the last three evac ships?"

"Sir, the last of them has just cast away from the dock. Cradle-class vessel is following them on the pre-selected escape route at maximum burn," Latana reported as she brought up the images. Civilian and military ships alike, the latter of which belonging to the escort, began their burn at high speed to run the distance and reach their escape corridor. The front of the ship had finally aligned with the Covenant vessels after a wide turn.

He saw them. The seamonster-like, bulbous purple hulls of the Covenant vessels shined in Sol's light and their bellies burned white-hot, the dozens of Plasma and laser weapons on their ventral hulls charged and ready to fire. The first of his ships crossed the distance. Hillsborough destroyers, the oldest design in the fleet by far, let loose salvoes of missiles from their tubes while their MAC Guns let rip the superheavy ferrous rounds that had so famously become the perfect weapons against the Covenant. Or as perfect as any weapon in the UNSC's arsenal.

Missiles first sparked against the shielding of the leading Covenant Cruiser while the tracers of autocannons from the Longsword interceptors lit the void. The delta-shaped aircraft pushed through the first volleys of plasma from the enemy's own fighters, with several of them receiving rounds square in the cockpits just before they had the chance to launch their own payloads.

They managed, however, to respond by taking out just as many Seraphs in their first pass.

The leading Covenant Cruiser fired. A string of white and blue pierced the darkness of space and lanced forth. A gash appeared on the right of one of the Hillsboroughs that had closed into knife-fighting distance alongside the rest of the fighters and a pair of Gladius corvettes. One of the corvettes, however, caught the beam of one of the rear cruisers. Cut in half from bow to stern, the vessel exploded in a fireball.

The Admiral growled, then demanded, "Solution!?"

"Acquired," The AI replied, "Gunnery, fire at will."

The hull of the vessel shook with the stress of the firing gun. The Magnetic Accelerator Cannon of the UNSC vessel's roar rumbled across the ship while the massive slug left the barrel. The high-speed impact came next, with the flickering shields of the Covenant's lead ship under constant bombardment. The round tore through, causing the shields to flash and peel away before it struck the cruiser amidships, tearing a nice, big hole through one side and exiting out the other.

Coilguns soon powered on. Streams of automatic cannon fire filled the space around the ship as fifty-millimeter coilguns let rip their dangerous rounds and CIWS traced abstract drawings as it tracked and fired at enemy fighters. A pair of Gladius Corvettes and a Stalwart frigate, all three outfitted for AAA duty, had their coilguns spitting out shot after shot of high-explosive ammunition.

The Covenant's reply was a turn to a loose wedge formation. Beams of energy laced the void between the two fleets, one of them cutting a nasty gash into the side of the Moscow, which the AI reported, "Sections sixteen, twenty-three and thirty-one have lost atmosphere. Armor plating damage," as calmly as she could, "Hillsborough destroyer Boston is now inoperable. Frigates Silver Lining and Liberty have been heavily damaged."

The hulk of the Boston barreled forward, propelled by nothing but inertia. Her captain had set her on a collision course with one of the other Covenant Cruisers and the beast was too slow to dodge. Bow to bow, the two ships 'kissed', with the Hillsborough destroyer punching through the shields as its reactor overloaded. The barrel of its MAC made contact with the maw of the Cruiser and punched clean through the pretty alloy. A second sun grew out of the two ships as the reactor of the Boston finally overloaded.

Three MAC Rounds met the second Cruiser over from that one. The Valiants had joined the battle in earnest, with one of them meeting the other Cruiser to take the lead with a Nuclear Warhead to the face. Plasma torpedoes followed in response. Blue fire washed over the hull of one of the cruisers as armor boiled and peeled, revealing hull plating and, finally, depressurizing the interior. A second torpedo struck the Valiant Princeps Bellator, but the girl did not buckle, replying with another half-power MAC that sparked off the shields and weakened them.

The Cruiser itself fired, but its plasma torpedo was not aimed at the Princeps, rather at one of the fleeing Phoenixes. The Admiral gasped and ordered, "Manifest Destiny, you're about to get hit! EVASIVE!"

It was too late...

The Phoenix-class vessel took the full brunt of the plasma torpedo right in its engines. The craft's interior buckled as the 'spine' snapped due to the stress. The reactor overheated and armor plating across the ship blistered before the meltdown occurred. The ship flashed, snapped and detonated in the brightest fireball yet, the shockwave of the detonation rattling both the other fleeing ships and the defenders.

The man swore, then said "Focus on that one..." pointing to the Cruiser that took out the Destiny. Wordlessly and with fury in their hearts, the crew complied... Missiles began to rain down upon the shields. Hundreds and hundreds of explosives caused the enemy ship's shields to shimmer and then shatter. Several hundred more struck all across the vessel's body, causing cratering wounds and it to vent atmosphere.

There had been over half a million civilians on that vessel. While it would've been easy to look upon those deaths as minimal compared to the wider conflict, they were the people the Admiral had been ordered to protect at the cost of his own life. He growled, then ordered, "MAC Gun... Fire. Full charge..." with chill in his voice. The ship shuddered once more and the vengeful MAC round seemed to scream out of the barrel. It struck the already-burning vessel in the bow before deviating through the armor and exiting out of the belly at a ten degree angle.

The ship broke apart in orbit after that impact, torn at the seams by the pressure and energy of the round. Alien armor burst and shattered, rains of micro-projectiles striking the remaining Cruisers' shields, followed up by the detonation of the vessel's reactor washing them in burning radiation. The remaining UNSC defense ships that had stayed behind opened up with everything.

MAC rounds tore into armor, missiles dug through hull and coilguns rippled and fractured the very cores of the ships that were being fired upon until nothing but the hulks of the Covenant cruisers remained on a decaying orbit. The Admiral fell into his chair, beads of sweat running down his face. He wiped his brow and his eyes, then stated without a second's pause, "Bring us about. Have us rejoin the fleet and prepare a casualty report..." before turning his gaze to the distant fighting around Earth and the snaps, pops and lights of that battle. He narrowed his lips, then whispered a prayer for the UNSC and said, "On the double, people..."

The vessels swiveled about and burned to join the evacuating convoy. The remaining Gladius corvettes dropped the modified nuclear mines they had on board, leaving a surprise for any future Covenant vessels that may try to strike at Mars, all while burning away from the place. As they departed, they flew by the destroyed Phoenix-class ship's shattered remains and the Captain's heart sank. That was the ship that not only carried a Million of their own, but also carried the terraforming equipment.

"Admiral..." The AI spoke, her voice filled with sorrow.

"I'm fine, Latana... Keep us moving. Prep Slipspace solution and link us to jump with the rest of the fleet..." He ordered. Time passed and the ships reached the edge of the system on sublight within the day, unchallenged anymore by the Covenant as the battle for their Homeworld raged on behind them. They would be back, at full strength. And if any Covenant remained? They would slaughter them with little remorse.

As the ships prepared for the jump, the Admiral hummed as a pit suddenly formed in his stomach. He stood from his seat and looked around, watching as the massive combined strength of the fleet's drives tore a hole big enough through Subspace that they could all traverse at once. Still, the man regarded the portal with a hint of concern. He watched the swirling mass of darkness for a moment, then gasped...

The portal distorted, twisted, then warped and wrapped around the fleet, swallowing it like a hungry mouth. Before it did, though, the man had managed to witness a faint blue beam snap toward it from Pluto. He braced, falling into his chair and tightening his harness. For a moment, his skin prickled, hair standing on-end as a thousand needles stabbed into his entire body.

... Then, all was darkness...

Unknown Orbit

Unknown System

20/10/2552 Standard UNSC Military Calendar

The crews of the entire evacuation fleet scrambled to figure out what the hell had just happened to them, all the while the Admiral himself scanned the space around them. The only thing he could see out of the portside window was a gigantic desert planet with a blue-shining atmospheric layer similar to that of Earth. She was larger than the Earth by some margin and the gravity field she emanated was strong, but thankfully not strong enough to de-orbit the craft as they regained their footing.

Some of the ships had been disabled by the strange Slipspace event that let loose an EMP, but they were being kept straight. The Cradle-class repair vessel was keeping them towed and in orbit while their reactors came back online and all power was restored to systems. He asked, "Latana... Preliminary scans on the planet below?" as he still looked it over.

"It appears to be habitable, sir," She replied, "But I am detecting increased, potential damaging radiation levels on the sunlit side, courtesy of a hole in the ozone layer. There is also a singular, faint power source on the dark side of the world, but I cannot pinpoint it. We would need to do more scans before we managed to..." and she turned her attention back to the matter of actually giving a proper scan of the planet.

"Great..." he sighed, "Status on our Slipspace drives?"

"The coils are still undergoing recharge fleetwide, sir," The Helmsman reported, "At the current rate you've ordered, we'll be here for almost a week before we can jump... Should I relay orders to begin faster charging?"

"No," The man shook his head, "I won't risk losing vital components or even entire ships thanks to me wanting to get us underway ASAP... Keep steady on the recharge. I'm more concerned over the multitude of cryopods we have, now. If we don't find somewhere to set down and make camp, we'll lose any pods damaged by the jump... Latana, options?"

"We could send a squad down on the planet's dark side to find the power source below... It could prove to be useful to us... Even if the planet is not," The AI remarked, "Or we could attempt to make a settlement beneath the ground of the planet. I'm detecting a layer of rock beneath the sands, as well as sources of water latticing the entire surface. Radiation seems to be the issue that's halting growth of plants on the surface, however."

"Noted... Prep the Rangers and send a pair of scientists with them. I want Captain Caleb and his squad on the ground dark-side in thirty," The man ordered, "Have our workshops make lead-lining for the armors and sealed gas masks to connect to the helmets. We'll need them for when we send survivors planetside. First set of them, we give to the away team."

"Aye, sir, orders relayed," The AI replied, then paused and stated, "Stand by... Secondary objects coming into view."

Indeed, two more celestial objects at three-hundred eighty four thousand and five hundred seventy thousand kilometers away from the surface. The planet's moons, one of which was a mystery in and of itself. One of the two moons was a scarred surface, filled with craters from asteroid impacts, while the other was pure, flat and sandy terrain akin to the mother planet.

"Anything on them...?" He asked.

"Nothing on initial scans... But at least we know we have two celestial objects to utilize as possible future bases should we need them," The AI offered, "The second moon, the one farther away, is an almost perfect miniature copy to her home planet, sans the power signature on the current Dark Side," She then explained and brought up bare topographical imaging that the ships had managed. Just sand dunes and jutting rocky mountains and the faint traces of cliffs.

"Alright... Keep me posted. Let's get those Army Rangers and their wards down there quick. I wanna know what kind of tech we're looking at," The man ordered calmly...

In the hangar of the Moscow, a squad of UNSC Army Rangers donned radiation-resistant clothes and armor, as well as specialized CBRN helmets and masks aside from their usual kit, all of it colored in a desert tan with specialized camouflage patterns to properly blend into the white desert below. Leading these men and women, a platoon of forty soldiers escorting two researchers and their teams, was a man of Eastern descent, his eyes sunken, his gaze tired. In his arms, he cradled the standard-issue Army rifle, an MA37k. More blocky and utilitarian than the current MA5 family, which looked sort of science-fiction, the MA37k remained the Army's favorite for the simple fact it felt better.

Captain Amir Caleb shifted from one foot to the other, seemingly on the edge, waiting to get down to the planet below. He checked the digital watch on his wrist, then hummed and whistled a three-note tune. All forty of his men and women stood to their feet after arranging their uniforms and ensuring that their suits were sealed tight against rads. He tugged at the skintight black collar around his neck, which was the lead-lined undercloth he had been ordered to wear, then started, "One mike out from departure. Let's go over the orders we got one more time. Our Platoon is to provide escort to a bunch of Eggheads as they examine the tech down below."

"Keep your eyes open and engage only if engaged by anything hostile," The man ordered, then stood to his feet and looked at the four Pelicans and their payloads. Four Warthogs, two of which were wider troop transporting types modified to be able to fit everyone else aboard them, were currently being mag-locked into place so they could be hauled safely through the orbital descent. He then ordered, "That's all I have for you..." before eyeing the Eggheads that they were escorting.

"Doctor Grayson," He offered in greeting.

"Captain Caleb," She nodded, smiling, "Take it you and the Seventy-Fifth will be providing us escort?"

"Yes. We'll provide the muscle while you provide the brains, as usual," He shot back, then straightened up and jumped to his feet. He ordered, "You're riding with me in one of the Troop Hogs, doctor," before lifting his hand and making a motion for the troops to rally just as his digital watch began to ring. The Army Rangers and their wards boarded their transports as the cavernous hangar's activity continued unabated.

The pilots inside greeted their passengers calmly, before they and the co-pilots began a thorough run through the pre-takeoff checklist. The Doctor and the captain both sat themselves down near the cockpit, with the Ranger checking his firearm. The rest of his squad sat themselves down in their aircraft moments later and, without even batting an eye as he cleaned the barrel, he slammed a fist into the wall that separated them from the pilots, a loud clang echoing through to the cockpit. He spoke to the seemingly confused doctor Grayson, "I've been out flying with Echo Six-One-Niner before. He knows my signals."

"Ah," She nodded, pushing a strand of black hair out of one of her two beautiful blue eyes. She tugged at her CBRN Suit's hood, hearing the creaking of the lead-lined plastic and feeling the weight of the damn thing. They felt weightlessness come with the roar of the engines. The aircraft took off and left the belly of the command vessel of the fleet, turning toward the planet itself and pushing Mach speeds in the middle of space. Their objective remained a simple one:Scout the planet and figure if the dark side was at least good enough for habitation.

"Huh, curious..." The Doctor murmured as they descended. She saw the Captain raised a brow while settling his new CBRN helmet into place, then spoke, "Latana just sent me data. The planet below is tidally-locked... And not naturally, seeing as its core still spins. Which means something down there wants to keep half the planet away from the radiation of the sun."

"Could potentially be beneficial, though that still isolates half the planet from us if we decide to settle here," The Captain noted.

"We could go for underground cities," She replied, tapping her tablet with the digital pen she had and looking him square in the eyes.

"... I guess... Though that'd mean mines would mesh with the cities," He offered, "... Idunno, doc, we'll see what the Admiral and his staff decide to do. He knows we have to settle somewhere... And ASAP, with the fact that FTL recharge is gonna be slow-burn for the next couple of days... Y'know, until the Admiral and that AI are sure we're safe to go for jump..."

"And the damaged pods we have cannot wait," She nodded, "We'll bring them down here once we check that power sig..."

And then they'd just prepare for the long haul.